


Moon Runner

by kogosaiyajin



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Prohibition Era, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Gift Giving, Moonshine, One Shot, Smut, Star-crossed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-01
Updated: 2019-08-01
Packaged: 2020-07-28 17:04:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20067517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kogosaiyajin/pseuds/kogosaiyajin
Summary: Bulma, the daughter of a prominent family, is a brilliant scientist living in Prohibition era Richmond. Vegeta is a lawbreaker - a moonshine runner. They live in different worlds, but a chance meeting happens...





	Moon Runner

Bulma stared in the mirror, her blue eyes gazing emptily back at her. It was the night before she was supposed to accept an award for her latest research discovery, a flexible fabric with potential military applications. Her reflection blurred in the mirror as the jazzy bass hummed and wavered. The melodious ring of the cabaret singer was muffled, crooning again about love. She closed her eyes and inhaled the familiar scent of the powder room – velvet upholstery, and the heavy hint of every other lady’s perfume atomizer. Stepping back to the door and cracking it, Bulma narrowed her eyes and cast her gaze through the tiny space.

_Maybe he left…_

She thought to herself, and grimaced before sighing and sitting back down on the divan to reapply lipstick and perfume. She had awkwardly excused herself from the advances of a man she ran into at the bar. Lord Freiza was the heir to one of England’s premier shipping companies, but he was an insufferable boor and no amount of money could tempt her to converse with him for any longer than absolutely necessary.

She had seen him from time to time at social events, his smile never reaching his dead black eyes that seemed to watch her from every corner of the room. He’d found her that night, while she was nursing her drink, and proceeded to do everything but suggest she go home with him.

“This is ridiculous.”

She insisted out loud to herself.

“I shouldn’t be hiding in here. I came here to unwind and relax and I’m not going to let him ruin this.”

She stood up, trying to firm her resolve and glanced at her makeup in the mirror. The whiskey had given her a flush, nearing the color of her lip pomade. She made her way back to the bar, lifting the edge of her gown to sit, this time closer to the register and the eye of the watchful barkeep.

“Moonshine. On the rocks.” She waved a gloved hand at him.

The bartender winked at her and pulled an amber bottle from out of sight. The clear liquid splashed over the ice and he plunked it down in front of her. Bulma felt a rush of cold behind her and knew the presence even before he spoke.

_He’s still here._

She pasted a fake smile on her face and turned to look at the interloper.

“What can I do for you, Lord Freiza?”

He frowned and motioned disapprovingly at her drink.

“Please, Lord Freiza is my father. Call me Cole. And speaking of fathers, I’m not sure your father, or the committee would approve of this sort of drink. You may be a scientist, but a lady should act like a lady.”

Bulma felt a nerve twitch in her temple.

“Well, don’t you think,” she drawled slowly, her voice dripping with disinterest, “that they might be hard pressed to find out, given that such “academic pillars” would never set foot in a place like this? Unless, you mean to imply that you intend to tell them. I wonder, how interested they would be in exactly how you acquired that knowledge?”

Freiza’s eyes narrowed and his lips parted then firmly pressed together. Bulma rolled her eyes and went back to her drink.

_Holy shit!_

She nearly gasped at the sharpness and fought the urge to cough. Freiza had started speaking again, but as she tried to quiet her lungs, a man came from the storeroom door carrying a crate of bottles that looked like the one her deathly drink had come from. His black hair stood wildly up, despite his clear attempts to comb it back, almost reminding her of flames. His trousers clung to his legs and backside, appearing to be giving the fabric a run for its money. He hefted the large crate onto one hand, then, his arms bulging against his cuffed up shirt sleeves.

_Good god, what a drink of water – even if he isn’t terribly tall._

She smiled to herself and met the man’s eyes for a moment before Freiza’s agitated tone cut into her dreamy thoughts.

“Miss Bulma I don’t believe you’ve been listening to a word I’ve said.” He whined nasally at her.

She narrowed her eyes and turned to him, her tone sharp.

“I’ve been more than civil to you at events, put up with your pushy behavior, and endured your insults about everything from my family, to my work, to my nose powder. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have an evening to myself for once and I’d like to enjoy it. Without you.”

Freiza’s expression was one of pure shock and he spluttered at her indignantly, but Bulma waved him away disinterestedly. She huffed and turned her back to him, leaning on the bartop. The handsome man she’d spotted was gone, though. Sighing, she stared into her drink and swirled it absently.

Here she was, turning down one of the most eligible English bachelors. Her mother would twist her arm if she knew – but she would have done so anyway if she knew Bulma broke prohibition. She took another sip of moonshine and winced, waiting for the familiar warmth to spread across her body. Sure enough, towards the end of the glass every bit of her was tingling and floaty. She giggled, tossing her lavender hair back and swaying on her stool with the rhythm of the jazz. The music had softened as she drank and the night had gone on; the floor was full of dancing couples now. Draining the last of her drink, she reached into her waist purse and fished out bills, nodding to the keep as she drunkenly slipped off the stool.

Letting the music guide her, she slipped into the edge of the crowd and closed her eyes, swaying and smiling contentedly in her buzz. An arm around her waist suddenly jarred her and she froze, expecting to see Freiza again when she opened her eyes. Instead a pair of obsidian orbs glittered back at her, set beneath thick brows arched in a smirk that made her belly grow hotter. Bulma relaxed, recognizing the man she’d seen behind the bar. He led her gently into a dance as she stared at him, wide eyed.

“You got a name, moonshine man?” she mumbled, feeling dazed.

He tucked his head closer to her ear, his lips almost brushing her skin. Bulma resisted the urge to lean closer and make contact with his mouth, her breath hitching in her throat.

“Ouji. Vegeta Ouji. .” His voice was low and she could feel herself melting already.

“Wait, the Ouji? Like the moonshine runners??” she squeaked.

“Hush, not so loud, strawberry.” He mumbled, a tinge of amusement in his voice

Bulma arched a delicate eyebrow at him. “Strawberry?”

Vegeta grinned then – or what passed for a grin – and brushed her cheek with the pads of his fingers. The motion felt like it left a trail of sparks, his rough skin against her silken.

“That’s what we call girls with the ‘shine flush.”

She felt heat flood her face and his smile widened.

“See, that’s what I mean. Ladies always spendin’ so much time indoors, out of the sun, now you got the perfect canvas for that beautiful blush.”

Bulma’s eyes drifted half closed, and she tilted her head back, smiling softly as she wound her arms about Vegeta’s neck.

“Well, I’m not a strawberry, I’m a scientist – and my name is Bulma.”

Vegeta swirled her about the room expertly, avoiding the other couples packing the bar.

“What’s a scientist doing in a speakeasy?” he asked.

“Mostly escaping unwanted attentions.” Bulma rolled her eyes, then immediately froze, nearly tripping Vegeta.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean you – it’s just earlier there was this guy, and he’s really aggressive when he drinks and we got into this argument…”

Vegeta laughed it off, setting them back on rhythm.

“You definitely didn’t seem to be enjoying yourself, but you also looked like you could handle him on your own.

Bulma spun in his arms and turned her back to his chest, letting him melt against her body as they glided across the floor.

“I’d rather handle you, I think.” she said, over her shoulder, her voice a mere low hum.

Vegeta nearly crushed her in his arms at those words, and she shivered in anticipation. His arm around her waist tensed, fingers deftly gripping her hip bone through the silk of her dress. He could smell moonshine, wafting on her words and mixing with the honeyed scent of her mouth. Pressing closer against her, he inhaled deeply at the nape of her neck, relishing in the shiver the action elicited from her.

“Come on,” he murmured in her ear as he took her hand and led her away from the middle of the room. “There’s somewhere I want to take you.”

*

Bulma sat on top of the garden wall and watched Vegeta deftly jump down. He looked up at her and opened his mouth to say something, but stopped when he noticed her holding her hand over her mouth in a failed attempt to hide her laughter.

“Vegeta - I don’t know how else to tell you this, but your big surprise isn’t much of a surprise. This is my garden, we’re on my property where I live. I didn’t notice because I’ve obviously never been in this alley before, but I recognized it as soon as I watched you jump down.”

She laughed harder, gasping for air. Vegeta put his hands on his hips and looked down, kicking the ground and awkwardly clearing his throat.

“Well uh, I guess I was right about you bein’ a strawberry then.” He gestured around him. “I wondered who on earth would have so many strawberry plants.”

Bulma narrowed her eyes and peered down at him suspiciously.

“You’re the one who’s been stealing my strawberries!” she accused.

“I’m tryin’ to, but the one I want the most is conveniently just out of arms reach.”

Vegeta stepped closer to the wall and held up his arms.

“Jump, I’ll catch you. Show you how I like to enjoy my strawberries.”

He winked and motioned with his arms. The effects of her moonshine had been wearing off, between dancing and deliriously riding in Vegeta’s car with the roof down. Hearing him say those words though, brought more heat rushing to her body than the liquor ever could have. Bulma swung her legs over the edge of the wall and pushed off, slipping at the last second. She landed in Vegeta’s arms, but sent them both sprawling into the soft grass. He pulled her into him as he stumbled backwards, landing on his back with her on top of his chest.

She stared down at him, still in surprise at her clumsy miss. His hands found her legs just below the hem of her dress, the beaded fringe quietly clattering as he tugged it up. Bulma’s lips parted with a gentle gasp and Vegeta’s gaze intensified. He traced the inside of her thighs with his fingers and raised his head to hers, never looking away. Bulma felt her heart quicken its flutter in anticipation and impulsively closed the distance between them. She shifted to draw her knees up under her, gripping Vegeta’s chiseled body before grinding against his crotch and reaching for her hem to remove her dress. His mouth watered at the sight of her, smirking as she leaned back down and kissed him, hard.

He groaned into her mouth and dug his fingers into her flesh, maintaining the contact from her movement. Bulma dipped the tip of her tongue into his mouth, teasing him before slipping back out to caress his lips. He followed her with his own as he kissed her deeper, growling and snaking a hand up to cup her breast in his palm. She fumbled with his shirt, grasping at the buttons and impatiently tugging them apart as she drowned in his kisses. As soon as Vegeta’s chest was bare to her, she shifted to move downward, showering his throat and shoulders with gentle licks and nibbles. He pulled the ribbon on her undergarments, dipping his fingers in to run them across her slick opening. Bulma mumbled in frustration, pulling back away from him and sitting up so she was straddling his waist.

“Sneak inside with me.” She murmured, lifting his hand to her lips and sucking on the tip of his thumb.

Vegeta’s free fingers gripped her chin, turning her head back and tipping her pale face into the moonlight.

“You keep tasting me but haven’t let me have you, yet.” He said, his voice low.

He released her face and tugged her hips forward until she was sitting on his chest. Excitement filled Bulma, giving her tremors of anticipation. Vegeta slid his hands under her ass, squeezing it and grunting in satisfaction. She tugged her bloomers the rest of the way open, letting the fabric part to reveal webs of her dripping cum. Vegeta sucked in his breath harshly and pulled her on top of his face, burying his mouth in her cunt to moan. Bulma curled her fingers into his hair, rocking her hips across his lips and relishing sensations. Tiny vibrations tickled her thighs from his delighted noises as he lapped at her sensitive flesh. She bit her lip, letting out a squeal of pleasure that deepened into a sigh.

Vegeta felt his erection straining in his pants, his precum already making the fabric damp. When he removed his hand from Bulma to reach for his pants, though, she scolded him playfully and placed it back on her ass. He groaned in frustration, then arousal as she pulled slightly away from him to slip her fingers between her legs and drench them. Bulma leaned back to wrap her delicate, now dripping fingers around his cock, then planted her pussy within reach of his eager tongue. She stroked him faster, tightening her grip and teasing his head. Vegeta’s legs shook and Bulma nearly purred to herself with pride at his tremor.

His talented tongue was quickly working her into a frenzy, though, coaxing out whimpers from deep in her throat. She distractedly slowed her hand and Vegeta could feel her clit swell, promising him her cumming from his efforts. He reached up and roughly pulled her shift down, exposing her milky breasts to him. His dark fingers sank into her soft flesh as he gently squeezed, catching her nipple between his fingers to pinch. Thighs tightening around his face and both hands now digging into his hips, Bulma gasped and shuddered, her eyes rolling back in her head. She felt her toes curl in her slippers, her orgasm a tidal wave of pure bliss. Her body shook and Vegeta’s hand came up to cover her mouth as she cried out in ecstasy, masking her sobs until her climax subsided.

Before she could recover or move, Vegeta slipped his arms under hers, helping her sit back up on top of him. She gazed at him through heavy lidded eyes, her damp hair clinging to her neck and forehead.

“I’m not nearly done with you yet.” Vegeta whispered.

*

Bulma woke up to the sun peeking through her curtains, warming her legs that had drifted out from under the blanket. She stretched and rolled over, but the bed next to her was empty. Sitting up, she rubbed her eyes as the events of last night replayed in her head. A blush colored her cheeks and she drew the blankets up to her chin, smiling to herself. She was sure he ate the literal soul out of her in the garden, but Vegeta proceeded to show her that there was even better sex to be had.

Yawning, she slid out of the bed and stretched her arms over her head, peeking in the bathroom doorway. A disappointed feeling came over her as she realized Vegeta had left without saying goodbye. Refusing to let it color her mood, however, she went about preparing for her day.

*

“Thank you all for investing in Capsule Corporation. It is my hope that this new discovery will carry us into a new era of innovation!”

Thunderous applause rang throughout the streets and Bulma beamed with pride, holding her award high in the sunny sky. As she made her way down the stage steps, she glanced out towards the audience once last time. Suddenly, a flame haired head caught her eye, and she recognized Vegeta’s face in the distance. Beaming, she waved eagerly and quickly made her way to the back of the crowds. By the time she got there, though, there was no sign of him. The voices of her mother startled her.

“Bulma! Darling you did absolutely wonderful up there!” Panchee cooed, grasping Bulma’s arms and looking over her.

“Now if only you put as much effort into finding yourself a husband as you did this project…”

Bulma pressed her lips into a thin smile, carefully untangling Panchee’s hands from her arms and ignoring the remark.

“Father, I ran into the Captain from last week, he’d like to meet us this evening to discuss a new project.”

She stepped back from her parents then, lifting a hand.

“I’ll see you at home a bit later, I…have something I need to do.”

Before her mother could assault her with another flurry of questions, Bulma hurried off to her car and signaled for the driver. He opened the door, and she slid in lazily, letting herself go limp on the seat. She signed, leaning against the door and gazing out the window.

_You’re being silly, he’s just someone who you met and had a good time with._

She bit her lip.

_Okay, a _fantastic_ time, then. Why would he show up, but not say goodbye?”_

Her thoughts wandered the rest of the drive home, fantasizing and scolding herself in turns. She shook herself as she stepped out of the car and into her family’s lavish townhome.

“Miss Briefs, there’s a parcel here waiting for you. I was told that it is urgent that it be opened as soon as possible.”

The family butler extended his gloved hands, holding a box wrapped in delicate, white paper.

Bulma took it from him, slowly murmuring a thank you as she wandered up the stairs with it in hand. Her heart skipped a beat, and she tried unsuccessfully to ignore the hopeful feeling she had of who it could be from. Hurrying to her room, she sat down on her bed, carefully removing the paper. As she lifted the lid, a sweet smell hit her and she gasped in surprise. The box was filled with strawberries, their ripe red skins still sweating with condensation. She suspected she had missed Vegeta by mere minutes and then noticed the card tucked into the side of the box. Heavy white paper bore a narrow, harsh script spelling her name in thick black ink. She opened it.

_Here’s to make up for the strawberries I took without asking. Your garden is safe from me, now. _

  * _V_

**Author's Note:**

> This is a completely fan-made work and is not officially affiliated in any way with or endorsed by the Dragon Ball universe, franchise, films, manga, tv specials or games. Dragon Ball, Dragon Ball Z, Dragon Ball GT, Dragon Ball Super, and all associated franchises are the property of Akira Toriyama, Fuji TV, Funimation, and their respective creators, writers, artists & publishers.


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